Morgan's Memoir
by crypticnotions
Summary: The inner thinking of a neglected child...See where Morgan is two years after the show ended.


Disclaimer: I don't own Boy Meets World characters. Not a one.   
  
This is a one shot. I'm not currently intending on writing a sequel, but stranger things have happened. This is for Morgan because I realize that she simply didn't get much respect in the show and I see very few stories about her.   
  
Also I don't claim to be even a half way decent first person writer so anyways...  
  
Author: crypticnotions  
  
Archive: I don't care, just ask me first  
  
Morgan's Memoir: The inner thinking of a neglected child  
  
*****  
  
I am invisible. I know you're saying, "Whatever, you're just another angst riddled teen", and I can't say that I don't have enough drama in my life to fill three Mary J. Blige cds and my own soap opera, but I really am invisible. At least in my family I am.   
  
No one takes me seriously. In fact, I can't remember the last time someone talked to me and not at me. The sofa receives more attention than I do. I'm really not exaggerating.   
  
I'm sixteen now, but I have always been neglected. When I was little, everything was always about my brothers Eric and Cory. And just when I might have started gaining attention, my little brother Joshua came along. Don't get me wrong, I love him to death. No, really. But he has taken each second of my parent's attention during their every waking moment. I'm afraid that my parents probably dream about my brothers too.   
  
They say they love me, but I wonder if it's a girl thing. I mean my father told me he loved having a little girl. That having a little girl changed his life. That he had been wishing and praying for a girl. But if that's true, why does he ignore me?   
  
I mean seriously. Even my brother's friends get more attention that I do.   
  
Cory's friend Shawn gets more attention than I do. He's had my parent's complete attention on numerous occasions. Especially after his father died. They basically made him their new child. Even though he refused to legally join the family, he has always been more important and special to them than I have. I mean I understand that he needs someone too, but he has his brother now, you know? He'll be fine. He always has been and he always will be. But they will continue to nurture him until he's fifty.   
  
I could be making bombs in the garage and they wouldn't even notice. I know they love me. I mean they do express it during the times they talk to me. But considering they talk to me about once a year, it's simply not enough. What would I have to do to gain their attention? Rob a bank? I would do that, but even then I would be afraid that they would either not care or be so angry and disappointed at me that they wouldn't realize they contributed to my actions.   
  
Maybe I'm being a big baby. At least that's what Katy said when I told her. I guess if my best friend doesn't understand then maybe all of my feelings really are ridiculous, but I can't help but feel empty when I see the twinkle in dad's eyes when he talks to Cory or Joshua. And I can't help but notice mom's smile even if she's scolding Eric. I'm looked at more like an object. I see no twinkle or smile, just a plain glance over. Sometimes I wonder if they even hear me. If they really listen to what I am saying.   
  
I don't know if I'm right to feel this way. I mean I am very fortunate. I have food, shelter and clothes. That's a lot more than some people, but like that song out, "Where is the love?" I keep asking the question and I keep wondering since I have yet to find the answer.   
  
I want to just tell my parents, but no one else has ever had to tell them this, have they? Maybe I should ask Cory and Eric if they have ever had to fight this much for attention. I know they had that fight where dad and Cory would talk and Eric and dad would play sports, but each one of them have had some portion of his attention no matter what.   
  
And mom. Where do I begin? She always wants to do really lame things and when I say 'no', she gets really upset. In fact, she hasn't asked to do something with me in a couple of years, not something someone hasn't suggested first anyway. I guess I could try to spark up the connection between us, but I feel like mom isn't trying to reach out to me. Maybe I am selfish and this is all petty, but I've noticed the razor looking pretty good again lately.   
  
Mom and dad freaked when they found out I was cutting myself. It was my little dirty secret. Some girls throw up or starve, some go through boyfriends and some cut. I obviously fall into the cutting category.   
  
It started off slow. A little light pressing of the blade to skin then I started drawing blood. Soon that wasn't enough either and I started cutting deep. Never on my arms or visible parts of my body though. No one would have known if mom hadn't walked in on me dressing one day a couple of months ago.   
  
Now I'm in counseling and the rift between the three of us has grown. Even Cory and Eric started distancing themselves after they found out. And what's worse is they told people. Now people look at me strange all the time, like I might reach out and hurt them. Even Mr. Feeny. Who knew my life would feel so odd? Like I'm on the outside of a murky glass looking in. Like I'm trying to yell to my inner self, but that self is looking around nervously because it can't hear the noise from the outside.   
  
I hate counseling too. You know when people say it makes you feel crazy? Well, they weren't kidding. And the kids at school. Well, I tried to stop caring what they think about me, but whatever, it still hurts sometimes when they whisper about me. And they don't care that I know that they are pointing at me and laughing. That's what really hurts.   
  
My friend, Cara, who is a wiccan, said she was going to bind them from hurting me. I don't know if it will work, but it couldn't hurt me any more to try. They stopped making fun of her, so it just might.   
  
What's sad is when I try to tell mom and dad they tell me to tell the counselor and I never feel good with him, so I gave up telling him real elements of my life. I just make stuff up when I see him. Actually, I've gotten pretty good at that. Making stuff up that is. It's like a game to me now. Shuffling between making it sound real enough to happen to me, but not so real that it is actually a part of my life.   
  
The boys like me, but for only one thing and I'm not interested in any of them like that. It isn't cute and innocent like it was two years ago. It's all about having sex and frankly, I can't control hardly any other aspect of my life, besides my cutting, but I can control who I sleep with. I plan to make a good choice in that department at the very least.   
  
In fact, I would feel a lot better and more in control if someone at home paid attention to me, but they don't. Because, unfortunately, I'm invisible. 


End file.
